


Post-Pub Hours

by Tollero



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tollero/pseuds/Tollero
Summary: Corvo has a proposal for Samuel.





	Post-Pub Hours

As with most nights, the Hounds Pits Pub closed with only two men inside: an off-and-on employee, Samuel Beechworth, and Corvo Attano; Royal Protector, savior of the empress, near  _ savior of Dunwall _ , and more. Someone no one would expect to be nursing a beer at the bar, but came when he could. He was always a welcome sight to Samuel, no matter how long he could stay. A few minutes, an hour… Or, like tonight, up until closing. Him, slowly swiping a rag across the top of the bar, the other man having since abandoned his drink and gazing across the room at nothing. It’d been a long time since Sam had seen him that pensive.

 

His hand paused and came away slightly wet. “Something on your mind, Corvo?”

 

He looked up like he’d forgotten Samuel was there, shaking his head after a moment. His eyes focused on him intently, but once they left, they unfocused once more.

 

He let out a little hum of worry. Moving from behind the bar, he palmed his key ring and locked the door, making sure it would just be the two of them for a few minutes. Both he and Corvo were private men, they didn’t need someone looking to wet their whistle barging into the pub in the middle of a conversation. Samuel sat beside him rather than standing across, a hand slowly, gently settling on one of the other man’s. It stayed.

 

Samuel wasn’t sure how to pin down his and Corvo’s relationship. They were nigh inseparable when together, comfortable talking or just sitting in silence; he would bring it up to no one, but they had… Fooled around, on occasion, as well.  _ Only _ fooling around, since there was barely a doubt in the boatman-turned-barkeep’s mind that when Corvo returned to Dunwall Tower every day, he kept his hands to himself and his thoughts to the old Empress, bless her soul. It would be impossible to move on after someone like that.

 

As though he could sense he was in his thoughts, Corvo’s hand turned to squeeze Samuel’s, who reciprocated. The comfortable, albeit worried silence continued for minutes more before the sound of another hand on wood seemed to knock them both from their thoughts. Corvo’s fingers drummed on the bar top, others unlocking from Sam’s own, who put them in his lap. The younger man’s raised to his own chest, before beginning to slowly sign. Thank goodness. Samuel still struggled to understand when he moved too fast.

 

“I’ve been thinking, recently,” said even a little too slow for Sam’s taste, as though Corvo was unsure about them. “You’ve been a great help, and a better friend, Samuel.” He recognized the shorthand for his name that he and Emily came up with -- hands cupped, moving in a snake-like motion. Boat. River. “Especially all these years.”

 

Funny, it still felt like it was only yesterday that the young Empress was returned to her home. It took a moment for him to remember that it was, in fact, years ago; five, four? After the excitement of helping to overthrow the Lord Regent, time seemed to blend together. The movement of Corvo’s hands, again, snapped him from his thoughts.

 

“I have trouble letting people know how important they are to me. I’ve made that mistake once. I won’t do it again.” Corvo’s long legs kicked a little, getting the bar stool to turn so he could face Samuel, who just blinked in surprise, unsure of where he was going, exactly.

 

Maybe offering him a job closer to the Tower? He didn’t think he’d make a good guard, and Sam had no political experience. It had been a while since he was in the Navy --

 

His mind came to a near-literal screeching halt when Corvo procured a deep blue box, velvet, fitting in his hand before he set it on the table. One of his fingers slid to its front and tipped the top up, revealing a silver ring, inset with a dark blue gem. Samuel’s jaw fell, mouth opening.

 

Corvo’s hands once again began to move, but Samuel couldn’t will himself to focus and decipher what he was saying. Instead, his mind focused on how to handle this. Corvo was still some manner of a young man, Samuel could be Emily’s grandfather. He was the Royal Protector, watcher of the Empress; Sam was an ex-sailor. Nearly homeless. Nearly jobless.

 

_ Tell him you’re flattered,  _ his mind told him. Corvo looked at him with a hesitant smile, eyebrows coming together. He gestured to Samuel with both hands, then clasped them together, then a third gesture like he was pantomiming putting on a ring.  _ Tell him you don’t want to disappoint him. Tell him you’re happy just how things are,  _ despite how he wasn’t, and how every night he thought of Corvo and felt something in his chest warm him.  _ You would stick out like a sore thumb up there. People would think he went out of his mind five years ago, being with a guy like you. _

 

Samuel’s face must have changed from shocked surprise, since he watched Corvo’s own expression fall. Not sad, but worried. Samuel still hadn’t said anything. He exhaled through his mouth, lips moving as he attempted to form something coherent. “Corvo, I…”

 

“I wasn’t expecting an answer today,” the pause in Samuel’s speaking allowed him to interrupt. “Whenever you feel like you know.” Even still, it was hard to miss the air of disappointment coming off of him. Had Corvo seen their relationship differently?

 

He was usually so withdrawn. He barely spoke to anyone, considering a lot of folks around Dunwall didn’t know sign language. Even if he could speak, Samuel got the feeling that the man was, for lack of a better word, shy. And he’d seemed so lonely… When the man got more than a few drinks in him, he did his best to talk about how much the Empress had meant to him. When his hands got tired, he just leaned into Samuel, who would hold him to his chest and run his hands through his hair until they both passed out, still close to each other in the morning.

 

Corvo would never forget her. But friends, especially two men, didn’t do this. Samuel had had friends before, had a few now. Corvo was…

 

Samuel took one of his hands, both of his own covering it. He swallowed uneasily, the click of it audible in the silence of the pub. His voice was strained, quiet.

 

“I’ll marry you, Corvo.”

 

In an instant, he was mostly off his stool and mostly in Corvo’s arms, feeling rough stubble on his face as he was kissed -- on his lips, his cheeks, wherever he could reach, it seemed. A surprised bark of a laugh left Samuel as his hands scrabbled for the other’s cheeks, trying to keep him still for a proper kiss. He could feel both of their hearts pounding in their chests, Corvo’s moving arms almost knocking the ring box to the filthy floor, feeling breath leave him and his torso shake as he silently laughed.

 

Samuel was absolutely terrified for the future, now. But at least he’d have Corvo with him.

**Author's Note:**

> theyre in love. thanks


End file.
